At the crack of the first Apparation, it took Verity a too long moment to wrap her mind around what was happening, the champagne flute in her hand frozen halfway to her mouth. It wasn't until the lovely wedding cake crumpled to the wet grass and people started screaming that Verity was shocked into movement. She dropped the flute, barely hearing it shatter, and fumbled with the hem of her dress. It seemed like forever before she was able to tug it up enough to yank her wand out of its holder and level it towards the black-cloaked figures.
There were too many people, running and screaming, Verity couldn't get a clear shot. Another pair of cracks sliced through the chaos and she raised her wand, opening her mouth when one of the men shot off a spell casually. Unable to cast protego in time, Verity instinctively moved, the spell hitting her in the shoulder instead of the chest, the force of it sending her spinning backwards into a row of chairs that collapsed on top of her.